For some reason, when someone asks me to interpret a dream, they swallow all I have to say whole and keep coming back for every dream they remember. I tell people, repeatedly, "My name is not Joseph, and I don't own a multicolored coat. The simple truth is, I do not receive any divine insight into dreams, not at least the way it is believed. As I have mentioned before, I have a lot of vivid dreams. I also have a lot of practice sitting down and analyzing what I dream to learn both how my mind is processing stuff from my life as well as whatever lessons may be presented to me in those dreams. Yes, I do believe there have been many dreams with a touch of the divine. The better I know a person, the better I can see how events from their own life have been processed while they sleep. There is no whispering voice in my mind that tells me what those dreams mean. In this blogpost, I intend to go through the last of my dreams last night in hopes I show my readers the process I go through.
I will start with the opening scene, go through the events in detail and then do the analysis. Keep in mind, my dreams - while they can be detailed - also make very little sense in this existence. But dreams are not supposed to make sense except in the dream. That is one of their characteristics.
I am walking along the tree-bordered edge of a field. Behind me there is the old re-creation village from the early 1800's; it is closed so no one is around. Through the trees, I see these tall creatures with dark-brown matted fur. Yes, just like the images of Yetti, Big Foot and Sasquatch. The fingers have yellowed darkened fingernails, hardened like claws. They also have sharp teeth akin to wolves with a hint of a muzzle, though more man-faced than wolf. The eyes, though are very human.
I pointed some laser-type gun toward them, where I got the gun I have no clue. I didn't have it a moment ago. They put up their hands in the universal gesture of "I surrender" and step out of the woods. The leader of the group of five speaks to me in English. I did not hear what he said as through the laser gun's sighting (which I don't recall looking through) I spy between the group a distant sighting of the REAL one. My mind had already determined these were locals in costumes trying to keep a legend going and keep visitors entertained.
I tell the others what I had seen and they take off their masks and turn around, searching the woods with me. We do not find the creature again, and I need to give up my hunt to turn the five pranksters in to the authorities; it is my job after all.
The dream shifts to the front of some small-city type courthouse, where there are three-story buildings all around the Main Street of this town and we are standing before a two-story building with huge granite columns and marble facade. My "prisoners" are penitent, asking for me to overlook the prank. They will not do it again. I admit, it was amusing, but the law is the law. I need to turn them in. We walk up the stone steps and enter the building.
As I walk through the doorway, I am no longer entering a courthouse but a church. Before me is a large room, with the cross and altar on the opposite end and countless rows of pews. The men I was escorting in had vanished; I was alone as I walked up the aisle. Unlike many churches I've seen, this one was packed with people. There was no where to sit except at the very front of the church. There was only one space, on the right side of the main aisle in the first row. Resigned, I quietly sit down, clearly aware that every eye in the place is on me. The church services had not started, nor was there anyone on the altar at the moment. But for some reason, I quickly became aware, I was the reason everyone was here. This was MY trial.
The prosecutor "took the stand" as he read a list of accusations from the podium where the gospel and other biblical passages are read. I realize with sinking demise that everything the man was saying was absolutely true. I HAD done all those terrible things. Then he asked others to testify to what they had witnessed. One after the other, people were standing up and casting their accusations about things I had done wrong or not done as I should. Worse, these were elaborated and blown way out of proportion. But all the other people there nodded in complete agreement. I was sinking in a pit of despair as my stomach started to churn.
Then there is a commotion just outside the main doors. A moment later the costumed men burst into the back of the room, stopping the string of accusations and calling all attention to them. Then I realized, these were not the costumes, these were the real deal. Police had followed these creatures in and had wrestled them into some element of control with an officer on either side of them. But that was not good enough, apparently.
I leapt from the pew and ran down the aisle toward them. The only weapon I had on hand were these green plastic toothpicks in the shape of tiny sabre swords. I started flinging them one by one into the nearest of these creatures that were clearly more werewolf than Sasquatch. Unlike the one I spied in the woods, these clearly had the wolf muzzle, wolf eyes and drooling mouth as the tongue hung out the side of an impressive set of sharp teeth. The tiny toothpicks stuck straight out of their thick hide, not even making an impression except to further enrage the creature. I switched tactics and aimed for the genitals. The toothpicks "pinged" off the nether region as though it had hit metal with metal. My mind thought, "They must be wearing a metal cup under there" and thought of another tactic.
Then, as the saying goes, "the light went on." I got a flash of divine inspiration of what I REALLY needed to do in this situation. I dropped the toothpicks and walked quickly up to the first of the werewolves. I firmly but gently placed my hands on either side of the face, well aware of the heat from his breath and close proximity to canines that could rip my throat out. And I simply LOVED the creature. I forgave everything he had done and just poured loving thoughts from my mind toward him. The creature paused, closed its mouth and began to change. Within a minute, there was a man standing before me once again. The costume was still there, but there was a human head and human eyes looking back at me. There were tears in his eyes; he knew he was forgiven.
Then I went over to the next snarling werewolf and did the same. The dream ended.
I'm sure many of my readers can pick up on the main lesson here. If one does not forgive others, one is not forgiven. Then there are the secondary lessons.
First, "don't judge a book by it's cover." Don't assume one is the enemy when they appear to you as such. Often the enemy has become a faceless monster in our perspective. But there is still just a person as human as you and I underneath the mask we place before our eyes.Yet all too often our egos, as well as many standing at the pulpit, will tell us it's our responsibility to see the sin in others, accuse them "justly" or "rightfully" and turn them over to be punished. I have sadly seen many take delight in looking forward to watching others burn in the fires of hell. How horrible! But even my own ego thinks along these lines. "The law is the law" has been used to justify many tragic and horrible things in this world. Yet, what will be the result of these actions? They lead to our own trial... in this world or the next.
Second, don't be so ready to "jump on the band wagon." Don't be so ready to go with the mob's thought, that there is an enemy and we MUST attack it. This is EXACTLY what I had done by running up and attacking the werewolf, even AFTER it was obvious others had the situation in control. A good reason NOT to go with the mob-thinking; it can just as easily turn on you, as I witnessed in the church. Worse, many people are out there that WILL turn toward a common "enemy" in order to avoid people from seeing their own faults. These speak louder and act bolder than the rest. As you can see, I am no exception to these thoughts.
Third, to attack an enemy in the ways this world taught us - with swords, bombs, and other tools of war - only pisses off another. Why do you think my only weapon was little toothpick swords? They are completely futile as a "holy war." It does not make a better world. Love and forgiveness makes a better world. It changes our perspective from seeing others as an enemy to seeing them as a brother and sister.
Then the monsters fade from our sight and all are given a chance to start again. It is no wonder the revelation took place in a church.
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